Wednesday, July 23, 2014

on grief

This summer has been a whirlwind of travel and adventure, and I am oh so grateful. I would not change any of it for the world. One thing, or person, rather, that I wish I could share all of these adventures with is my grandmother. I hate the fact that she's no longer here with us. While I am so glad that she is no longer in pain, I hate that she isn't here with us. For years, we lost her slowly to a cruel disease. Dementia sucks. And so does cancer.

The thing about grief is that it comes in waves. One minute you're dancing in the kitchen and singing along to your favorite song, the next, your heart is so heavy that it physically hurts. Images of the person you lost flood your mind as you try to remember just what it was you were thinking of before that memory came. Death is cruel. It is not what we were created for. And so it is hard on us when it comes. It has no mercy, and it comes swiftly.

My grandmother loved to travel. She lived a life of adventure and made the most of her time here. I so wish I had taken more time to listen to her stories. To learn from a woman who had traveled the world and seen so many places and people. But for now, I just keep on adventuring on my own, carrying her spirit with me, waiting for the day we will see each other again and laugh and talk about these adventures together as we marvel at the greatness of our God.

Mr. and Mrs. William McMorris, my maternal grandparents

You will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you will never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly-- that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp. -Anne Lamott